Second Guess
by AlexWayne
Summary: What happens when Finch and Reese have a devastating aftermath when one of their cases goes bad? (This turns into a Rinch pairing, just a warning in case you don't "Ship" them)
1. The Heat of the Moment

Finch sat there, completely numb.

He could do nothing. Not run, not cry, not even blink. He just sat back on his heals on the pavement. There was a humming in his one ear. It sounded like a voice. It was a serious voice. A warning voice. But even this sound couldn't penetrate his catatonic state.

Before he knew what was happening, Reese had squatted down eye-level with him and was trying desperately to get his attention.

But Finch couldn't look away.

Reese put his hand on Finch's shoulder and tried to lift him up under his arm. Finch's legs were wobbling and he couldn't break his gaze with the horrific sight in front of him. Only when Reese turned him around and began walking, or dragging, Finch along with him did the spell seem to break and an entire flood of emotions hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Come on, Finch, you're okay," Reese had been saying.

Finch's initial thought was to vomit, but he held it in and his legs gave out beneath him instead. If it weren't for Reese's quick reflexes, Finch would have collapsed to the ground. Reese kept walking though, pulling Finch along and seating him in the passenger seat of a car. He then walked around to the other side and sat down next to him in the driver's seat.

"Finch. Look at me," Reese said firmly.

Finch tried to look but his mouth was hanging open and his eyes fixed in a permanent look of shock.

"I could have saved her…"

"No, don't do that."

"It…it was my fault…I never thought…"

"Finch!" Reese yelled, making him jump.

"Stop, don't do this to yourself. It wasn't your fault!"

But Finch couldn't be swayed.

"She was twelve years old…" A single tear rolled down Finch's cheek.

"I know…"

"Why couldn't we figure it out sooner…?"

"Finch…"

"I mean…who would have thought that a 25-year-old man was the would-be victim because a 12-year-old was going to kill him in a suicide bomb mission…?"

Reese turned Finch to face him.

"She didn't know what she got herself into…" Finch continued, "We saved a rapist, a murderer and let a little girl pay the price! What kind of justice is that?"

"We didn't know, Finch…we had no way of knowing…James is going to go to prison for a long time for what he did, there was nothing we could have done to save her. She didn't want to—"

"You didn't see her eyes," Finch whispered, "You didn't see the sadness and the hatred. She was confused. She didn't know what she was doing…those mob bosses wanted James dead, _she _wanted him dead but they gave her a way to make it happen…and she thought she was so low she didn't want to live anymore…but she _did_, Reese, she _did_!"

Reese sat back in his seat.

"She played the clarinet…" Finch explained, wiping away a flood of tears, "She wanted a puppy and was going to name her Clara in honor of her late sister…she was just a child! You can't look me in the eyes and say she couldn't be saved. That she didn't _want _to be saved!"

"It wasn't your fault, you did everything you could…"

"No, I didn't."

Finch saw the images fly by in a blur.

He got to the girl in time, he tried to talk her down, she wanted to listen. He tried to reason with her, her eyes even softened. But she made up her mind. She pushed the button and Reese pushed Finch down. He caught glimpses of Reese running to Elliot James, and finding the monster still alive. Reese pinned a folder of the man's crimes to his shirt and left him there before trying to get Finch away from the scene of the explosion.

"You have to let it go," Reese replied slowly, jerking him back to reality.

"I'm not you, Reese! I can't just forget about innocent little girls that—"

Finch immediately wished he could take his words back.

Even though Reese didn't show it, he knew he had hurt him.

"Just…take me home, Mr. Reese…" he whispered.

Reese didn't try to talk to him again for the rest of the ride or when they entered the library. What Finch felt like doing was going to his room and making Reese leave so he could sob for the poor little girl and not have Reese judge him for his weakness. But what he really wanted was someone's comfort.

He felt angry at the world, ashamed of his betraying emotions, and devastated at his own failure. How he was going to go back out and face another number without having a creeping feeling that would make him second-guess every action he had no idea.

Finch limped his way towards his bedroom and expected Reese to leave. Instead, Reese took a seat at Finch's desk and stayed there. Finch didn't want him sticking around and was prepared to go back and yell at him. Reese spoke first though.

"Finch," he began quietly, "I know this is hard…I'm just as upset as you are, she was a beautiful little girl and this is no justice for what happened to her or her sister, but we can't bring her back, and James is facing the music. You don't think I want nothing more than to break James out of jail just so I can do whatever I want to do to him?"

Finch remained motionless in the doorway.

"Of course I do!" Reese answered for him. "…But sometimes you reach a point where you just have to move on. You can't blame yourself. The only thing you can find comfort in is the idea that maybe those two girls are together somewhere…"

Finch could tell that Reese was genuinely as hurt as he was about the little girl and suddenly felt less capable of holding in all his feelings. Before he knew what was happening, Finch began to sob and fell into a chair, holding his hands over his face and allowed himself to fully cry over the events of that afternoon.

Reese didn't know how to respond.

Awkwardly, he walked over and placed a hand on Finch's shoulder. Reese wasn't good at comforting people, but he just wanted Finch to know he was there. When Finch seemed to have gotten it out of his system, Reese helped him stand up. He swayed a little and Reese could see that his eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

Finch took a deep breath and when he tried to take a step, his legs wobbled, causing Reese to have to spring into action and catch him, their faces less than a foot apart.

"You alright…?" Reese asked, concerned.

Finch nodded and stared sadly into Reese's eyes.

Reese couldn't help but stare back. There was something almost mesmerizing about Finch's eyes that Reese couldn't quite put a finger on. Perhaps it was the man's extensive knowledge of things secret that gave him a mysterious edge. Reese found himself feeling rather curious.

Although, not curious enough to have guessed what would happen next.

Without warning, Finch leaned in and kissed him.

At first, Reese was too stunned to do anything, but when he would have thought his instincts kicking in meant he would pull away, it instead meant he closed his eyes and kissed back. How long they stood like that, Reese would never know, it felt like a long time but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, because Finch pulled back almost immediately, clearly mortified by what he had just done.

Reese stumbled backwards and leaned against the desk.

Finch, however, bolted for the door, leaving Reese sitting on the hardwood with a puzzled look on his face. Before Reese even thought of running after or even _calling _after Finch, it was already too late.

He had never seen Finch run so fast.


	2. Someone Better

Reese had not heard from Finch in two days.

After the little "incident" in the library, Finch had disappeared. Reese had tried to find where he could be hiding out, but started to become more worried about him. Reese couldn't help feeling guilty, even though he hadn't initiated the kiss. He knew Finch was going through an emotional trauma and Reese could only imagine how he was holding up, on his own.

Reese had been laying low for the past day, but he was beginning to feel restless.

He was craving the familiarity of the library and set out at once, not even bothering to put on a coat, despite the cold. When Reese walked up to Finch's lair, however, he was struck by a chilling surprise:

The office was locked and the main computer console was missing.

Reese immediately thought that Finch was in danger and turned to leave, ready to run to save him from whatever had happened in the last two day, but a duffle caught his eye. Kneeling down, Reese spotted a note pinned to it:

"J.R,

Thank you for your services.

-H.F."

Panicking, Reese hastily unzipped the bag and felt his heart sink. Inside the duffle were stacks and stacks of money. The cold realization of what was happening hit him and he slid to the floor.

_So that's it then…he left me? _He sighed.

Reese sat that way for a long time before finding the will to stand up and exit the room, leaving the duffle behind, but taking the note with him.

On the third day, Reese found himself sitting at a café table, the beginning of facial hair showing on his unkempt face. He could hear the clacking of heels as a beautiful brunette came up behind him and took a seat across the table.

"You look awful, John," Zoe said, smiling.

"Thanks…" John laughed quietly, "You look great."

"Well thank you," Zoe replied with an exaggerated flip of her hair.

John smiled again, but Zoe could tell his eyes looked empty.

"What happened…?" She leaned in, sympathetic.

"I may have ruined the only chance I had at being in a relationship with someone…"

Zoe cocked her head to the side, "Why is that?"

John exhaled and shifted in his seat.

"They kissed me…and I kissed back…it surprised us both, I think…but it won't work out between us. We have to forget it happened. Only…they seem to think it's better if we separate ourselves, I suppose…"

Zoe listened but remained quite.

"I'm not really sure what to do now…"

"Why won't it work between the two of you?" Zoe asked, sitting back in her seat.

"It's…complicated…" Reese replied with a dark laugh.

"Because this person has…family…?" Zoe asked.

Reese paused for a moment before realizing that Zoe had concluded the mystery kiss was with Carter. He decided it would be better if he let her assume that.

"Yeah…" Reese replied slowly, planning his next route.

Fortunately, Zoe wanted to talk next.

"Why don't you talk it over with her?"

"She…doesn't want to see me…" Reese said, almost cringing at the "she."

"Then she clearly cares about you enough. Sounds to me like she figures you wont return her affections. That's why she left. Not because she doesn't like you. She kissed first didn't she?"

"She was stressed and confused…"

"Bull," Zoe smiled.

Reese gave her a sideways look.

"The stress didn't make her kiss you out of nowhere. The stress made her give into temptations she probably had for a long while," Zoe explained, "Pent up feelings are no good."

Reese began to toy with the rim of his cup.

"Just tell this person know how you feel…they'll take you back," Zoe finished, sitting back, satisfied.

"I can't…" Reese said lower than a whisper.

"What?"

"I can't," Reese looked up.

She saw the frustration in his dark eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because…I can't be with them…they don't need someone like me in their life."

Zoe put her hand on his.

"How do you know if you don't find out what they actually want first? Go talk to them!"

"I can't, Zoe, I'm not worth it! I'm pain, I'm destruction…instability…I can't do that to them…I won't give them false hope this can work."

She leaned closer.

"How do you know it won't work? What if they are in love with you? But battling their feelings…" Zoe prodded.

If possible, Reese thought he felt even more depressed.

"I can't…"

"Oh so _that's_ it! You aren't afraid that they don't love you! You already know they do, don't you? _That _is what actually scares you!"

He pulled his hand away and looked at his watch.

"You don't even give yourself a chance…" Zoe sighed, gathering her purse and taking a sip from Reese's drink.

"I always admired your courage, Reese, but right now you are just being selfish…" she stood up to leave.

Reese flew to his feet and shot Zoe a dark look.

"You don't think I want to tell the person how I feel? You don't think I want to be happy?"

"No," Zoe replied calmly, "I don't. You are too busy punishing yourself for things that weren't your fault and refuse to let yourself off the hook because you don't think you are worth it."

She turned away from him and headed down the street.

Chasing after her, Reese pulled her back around.

"I want to. I want nothing more than to tell them how I feel…"

"Then do it," Zoe replied.

"It's not that—"

"Yes it is. Why don't you just do it?"

"Because they deserve someone better!"

Reese noticed now that his fists were balled.

Backing down and shaking his hands loose, he tried to back peddle and start again. Zoe cut him off though.

"Well doesn't that sound familiar…?" She nearly whispered.

Reese realized immediately what he had just said and was suddenly transported back to years ago when he said the same thing about Jessica. He wanted to give her someone better and now she was dead. Reese didn't like himself but he was starting to understand what Zoe was getting at: he was the best option. He would love the person and protect them.

Reese looked apologetically at Zoe.

Before he even had to speak, she patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry," she smiled, "Go tell him how you feel."

Just as she tuned away, it occurred to Reese what she just said.

"What do you mean, him?" He called after her.

Pausing to look over her shoulder Zoe yelled back, "Carter wouldn't have 'ruffled your feathers' this much. You care too much for him."

Turning back, she strutted down the sidewalk.

"Check at the Aergo Book Store…that's where I'd see him when he needed something from me!" She said without looking back.

Reese smiled slightly but could feel a ball of nervousness tighten in his gut.

He knew how to get to the old bookstore from here but his palms became sweaty when he thought about what he might say to Finch. Wiping the sweat away, he strode off in the direction of the store, finally determined that _this time _he wouldn't make the same mistake he did with Jessica…


	3. Ruffled Feathers

Three Days Previous…

Finch pulled away from Reese and suddenly, as all color drained from Finch's face, he realized what he just did.

Completely horrified, Finch stumbled backwards.

He didn't bother to wait for Reese to come out of the trance he seemed to be in. Instead, Finch bolted for the door, his hands shaking when he yanked on the handle and fled. He hoped with ever fiber of his being that Reese wouldn't follow him. He had to get away as fast as possible. Flying onto the sidewalk downstairs, he suddenly began shuffling back and forth, completely dumbstruck and unsure of what his next approach should be.

All he knew was he had to get away.

He began walking briskly, with no particular direction.

Just keep walking…don't look back…

Finch walked for over half an hour before finding himself outside one of his apartments. He hadn't necessarily intended to arrive here, but he was glad that he did. He suddenly felt very tired and his back ached tremendously.

Shutting the door behind him, Finch leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.

There he sat, for how long, he had no idea, but it seemed like all he could do was stare blankly at the wall opposite.

So this is it…? The one constant in my life left and I drive that away too…?

He suddenly felt so empty. He had barely survived the ordeal of that afternoon, but now he was facing a worse problem.

It sounded too unreal in his own head that he had to say it out loud.

"I kissed John Reese…" his voice was shaky and unsure.

He wanted this all to have been a bad dream and he would wake up and find himself back at the library with Reese by his side and this time, Finch would keep his feelings to himself. Finch tilted his head back and closing his eyes, let out a lengthy sigh. He tried to think what had possessed him to act like this. In all honesty however, the thought of embracing his desire to kiss him was not a first. Finch had never felt this way for a man before, but when he had always thought about it, it had never seemed wrong to him. Love is love, I suppose. He had thought.

There was just something about Reese that drove him crazy. There had been little details that caught his attention in ways he never imagined. He would become very warm suddenly when their hands would brush. He almost found himself blushing when Reese would bring him his favorite food or drinks without needing to ask what they were. At the time, he thought nothing of it. He had assumed he was just feeling uncomfortable because he didn't like the close proximity with another person after such a long time.

When in fact, it was the opposite.

The first time he realized his feelings was the day Carter had assisted in the near capture of Reese. Finch suddenly couldn't picture his life with the man dead and his urgency at reaching him in time was no longer on the mere basis of friendship, but something more.

When Finch confronted himself about these ideas, he scoffed. The idea of him being gay was preposterous to him. He had been in love with Grace for goodness sake! What settled it for him was not the interest of men in general, because he could never bring himself to think such thoughts about anyone else, but it was who Reese was as a person that Finch found irresistible and discovered that Reese could leave him as a puddle in is wake.

Not that _he_ ever noticed.

Finch had recently begun trying to get Reese's attention. To say these attempts were subtle would be an overstatement. Finch had no idea how to initiate this sort of thing. He would stand a little closer to Reese or touch his hand just a little longer than needed when exchanging papers. Any other ideas wouldn't have shown up on Reese's radar either. Staying in the library longer to be with him, getting _him _coffee or breakfast, or anything of that sort would been seen as no different from their original scheduling anyway.

Reese, on the other hand, seemed to be torturing him. He would never respond to any form of contact Finch initiated but the older man would be filled with frustration when Reese would lean in frighteningly close or flash him a devilish smile that made him go weak at the knees.

But at the library, in the heat of the moment, Finch finally snapped.

Now at his apartment, he tried to stand, but instead began furiously shaking and slumped back down again. He was suddenly so terrified and lonely and angry all at the same time. He knew he shouldn't feel so sorry for himself, but he couldn't help it. He was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to cry, but no tears came.

He began to wonder if Reese was out looking for him.

Was Reese angry by this? Did he feel betrayed?

Finch didn't want to know. All he could do now is give Reese what he owes him and move on. Finch pulled himself to his feet and headed for the large safe he had behind a bookcase. As he stared at the mounds of cash, he wondered how much to leave Reese. He owed Reese much more than all the money in his accounts, but he needed to give him a reasonable amount. Grabbing a duffle, he settled for giving him as much as would fit in his bag and be done with it. Resisting the urge to count it, because he would feel as though there wasn't enough, he began stuffing the bag and paused when he could no longer zip it without difficulty.

Peeking in one last time: there must have been millions inside.

Finch returned to the library an hour later to find it abandoned. He figured now would be the best time to leave the bag behind with a note attached. Every attempt he made at putting his words to paper he became disgruntled and scrapped the papers, completely shredding it so as not to leave anything readable behind in the trash.

When he clipped the final note to the duffel, he hastily unplugged the main computer monitor and a few small pieces of storage info before turning off the lights and leaving his life behind, again.


	4. Ancient

Reese wondered the best approach.

Should he buy flowers? Or is that trying to hard? He stopped outside the bookstore, peering in through the large glass windows. He could see why Finch would like this place. It had an old-fashioned look to it. Reese imagined the smell of old books, like it was at the library and suddenly pictured Finch, sad and alone, looking for a place that felt as safe as his library.

Reese doubled back, giving himself time to think and get a small gift for Finch.

He had no idea what he would say to convince him to come back to the library, but he needed some small token to let Finch know he wasn't mad. And then, more importantly, he needed to tell Finch _his _true feelings.

As soon as Reese caught sight of an antique store, he ran across the street, not wanting to spend too much time in this store. The door jingled when he pushed it open and the smell of polished metal and leather rushed to his nose. A friendly-looking older man smiled from behind a wooden counter.

"Can I help you with anything…?" The man asked; the creases around his crooked smile showing his age.

"Actually, I'm looking for something for my friend. He's an old book collector and I want to give him a great gift. Although…" Reese paused, "Money is a bit of an issue…"

The clerk almost looked apologetic.

"I might have just the thing…"

He left Reese to wait in the shop and headed back behind an old green velvety curtain. Reese took in the small room and strolled around, admiring old clocks, wooden chests and strange metallic objects of unknown uses. When the clerk resurfaced, he was holding an old cherry wood box and slowly looped around to Reese's side of the counter.

"This…" The man began, popping the lid open like an engagement box, "…Is an old 1867 Waltham. Pretty rare…"

Reese turned to see a pocket watch in the box and the clerk pulled it out, the gold chain shimmering with the declining sunlight streaking through the window, and handed it to Reese. He turned it over in his hands—it was beautiful, old and mysterious.

Perfect for Finch…

"It belonged to a Union soldier who left his high school sweetheart from the south behind. She was then due to marry some rich fellow because her parents didn't approve of her dating a soldier, particularly a man from the north. While fighting he met a nurse in the war and was engaged-to be married before she was killed from a cannon explosion. When he came back to New York, it turns out his high school sweetheart never married the man and left her family behind to start life in New York. She cut her hair and pretended to be a man to get a job in the city. When the soldier came home, he needed to find work and ended up at the same factory as his old girl. When she realized who he was, she revealed herself to him and they were finally reunited. They married not long after and lived happily for the rest of their lives."

Reese smiled at the similarity of this story with his but doubted this man told stories often when selling his merchandise.

"You know why I am telling you this story?" The clerk asked after a moment.

Reese tilted his head to the side in anticipation.

"You remind me of him: loyal, kind-hearted, would spend all their money on someone you care about…soldier… " He paused for effect.

"How did you know?" Reese put the watch back in the box.

"You have presence like a soldier."

"I also said spend all your money on them. If you come into an antique store but money is tight, I suppose you'd be spending all of your money." The clerk continued, with a knowing nod.

Reese shrugged apologetically.

"'Suppose so."

The clerk closed the box and handed it to Reese.

"How much for it…?" Reese asked.

"Probably too much for you, but you'd still buy it, wouldn't you?"

Reese was puzzled but he ran his thumb over the intricate woodwork on the top.

"Yes, probably…" he replied with a sigh.

"Then it's free. No charge for you, sir," The clerk replied, heading back around the counter.

"Um…what do you mean, Mr.…?"

"Wilbur, I haven't been called 'Mr.' in a long time."

"Wilbur, how much do I owe you…?" Reese asked, leaning over the counter.

Wilbur smiled.

"I already told you, it's free."

"Why?" Reese took a step back, "If this has a story like that, it has to be worth a lot of money."

"The soldier I told you about…? He is an old ancestor." Wilbur grinned even wider.

Reese's eyes widened and he looked down at the box in his hands.

"I never really had plans to sell it, but I didn't have much use for it. So I decided, when the right person came along for the right reasons, I would give it as a gift. If not for this story, I wouldn't have been born. You remind me so much of dear old James and I hope you find happiness just as he did. Please…" He gestured to the box, "…Please take it."

Reese smiled and shook Wilbur's hand.

"If you ever need anything…" Reese began as he pulled out a card, "Don't hesitate to call."

On the way back to the bookstore, he couldn't help feel as though he got the perfect gift.

Reese was busy staring at the box in his hand that he almost ran into a man exiting the bookstore.

"Oh, sorry sir-"

Reese stepped back and saw Finch, sheet-white and wide-eyed and they both almost dropped the antiques they held in their hands.


End file.
